The snow came faster than expected. One minute, the roads were clear; the next, wind and white swallowed the world whole. You and Allison had been on your way back from a supply run for Scott’s pack—just a quick errand, she’d said—but Beacon Hills had other plans.

When her Jeep slid into a snowbank off a narrow back road, there was no getting out. The storm howled outside, and the temperature was dropping fast.

Allison cursed softly, slamming her hands against the steering wheel. “Of course this would happen to me.”

You glanced out at the blinding white beyond the window. “Looks like we’re not going anywhere.”

She sighed, sitting back. “I guess not. Great. We’re stuck.”